oh, this old thing.

Dang, I did it again. I put this bloggy thing off for other important things, like cooking dinner, looking for a full-time job, appointments with my chiropractor, etc., etc. 

Now what? Well, Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I'm mostly thankful this year that I'm feeling somewhat better overall (although I still struggle at times). I'm also thankful that I found someone who understands as well as anyone my anxiety "problem", which from here on out I'd like to call the anxiety challenge.

Often enough, the anxiety is a challenge for me, but a problem for the people around me. I admit that I don't like having a great deal of anxiety about nearly everything. However, sometimes I cry solely because I am human. Sometimes my worries are legitimate and should be acknowledged rather than brushed off as anxiety. This is where it becomes problematic for everyone else (and an even bigger challenge for me). They can't tell the difference between my emotions, and the anxiety-induced drama that can from time to time (and time again) rear its ugly head. 

This can be a difficult problem for them, but with a little training, maybe one they can overcome. So I'm going to ask them to look at it as a challenge with me. The worst part of calling it a problem is that it suggests there is a solution. The people around you start offering you all sorts of solutions, some of which don't even make sense. Like taking more vitamins, or trying that new drug they just advertised on TV. Solutions are final. They are usually easy to grasp, like cause and effect. Anxiety comes and goes. Sometimes there's a reason for it, and sometimes there is absolutely no reasonable explanation for it. And anxiety (the "problem") will always exist within me. Sometimes medicine is the answer, sometimes it's not. Sometimes a little bit of therapy goes a long way, and sometimes I need both medicine and therapy. There is no solution. Challenges, on the other hand, can be overcome. The anxiety may always be with me, but I can overcome it. I don't have to own it, or admit it to everyone, or even take responsibility for it (in the sense that I am to blame for it). I only need to be human, and healthy humans, by nature, fight to live. 

As long as we're doing that, I'd say we're o.k., even if we feel mediocre at best. Mediocrity is relative. One wouldn't say that a guy with no legs learning to walk on his hands is mediocre progress. Therefore, a girl with no control over her fight-or-flight response driving on the highway every damn day to get to her part-time job and back is fucking excellent progress.

Even so, I find this, and this guy wildly entertaining these days: